


Heart Arrested

by Calico_Cat_TIVA_Fan



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Gen, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 20:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19775704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calico_Cat_TIVA_Fan/pseuds/Calico_Cat_TIVA_Fan
Summary: Eight-year old Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. knows that his mother is sick; too sick to be away from the hospital. What he doesn't know, that she is dying, he learns all too quickly. November 1976. Part of the "You Complete Me" universe.





	Heart Arrested

Heart Arrested

_Eight-year old Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. knows that his mother is sick; too sick to be away from the hospital. What he doesn't know, that she is dying, he learns all too quickly. November 1976._

"But, Mom," eight-year old Anthony whined. "I don't want to watch movies on TV; I want to go to the theater WITH YOU." He was tired of sitting in this stupid chair in his mother's hospital room. Sure, he spent a good part of every day with Mom, but it was only in the hospital.

"Now, Anthony, you know that's not possible," Mom patted the bed, motioning him to come over to sit by her. He snuggled into her side as she wrapped her arm without the IV lines around him. "Remember what we talked about yesterday?"

Anthony nodded his head slowly; he didn't like that conversation at all. "Yes, Mom. I still don't understand why you have to be here and not at home!"

Elizabeth sighed, "I have to be in the hospital so that the doctors can monitor my breathing, heart rate, and all that other stuff. If I were at home, I couldn't have the pain meds that help me be able to share time with you." She shifted as her son moved to look her in the eyes.

"Why are you sick, Mom? Why can't you get better?" Anthony missed the happy and carefree mom he used to have. The mom who took him to the dollar matinee every Saturday; the mom who instilled the love of the moving picture in her impressionable son.

"It's called cancer, son; there is no cure for it. The kind that I have spreads quickly through the body. I wish I had more time with you, Anthony, but it is just not meant to be," Elizabeth drew her boy to her, hugging him tightly. She began to sing to him and stroked his hair and back with her hands. She continued to sing the show tunes to Anthony and soon heard his breathing even out. He had fallen asleep.

She flashed back to times when she would soothe the boy from a nightmare or when he was not well. He had been a happy baby, so much fun to cuddle and show off to her friends. He looked so much like his Grandfather DiNozzo. Elizabeth wondered what her daughter would have looked like now. The girl would be seventeen, a young woman. Her Margaret had been a ray of sunshine in her two short years of life. Elizabeth closed her eyes and saw her baby girl running towards her.

"Mama!"

BEEP! BUZZ! Anthony woke up to the sounds of alarms going off all around him. The monitors attached to his mom were making all kinds of noises and flashing lights.

A nurse ran into the room, and then yelled out into the hallway, "Coding!"

Two more nurses and a doctor ran into the room.

"Get the kid out of here!"

"Move the kid, NOW!"

Anthony was nearly pushed off the bed and he retreated to a corner of the room, eyes wide in fright. What was happening to Mom? Why were all the machines making those noises? He cowered into the corner, alone and scared.

"Anthony," Uncle Angelo's voice got his attention. "Come with me, Tonio." He reached for Uncle Angelo's hand and followed the man into the hallway. Anthony looked up to see his father wringing his hands and looking distraught.

"Son, go with Uncle Angelo like a good boy. Your mom," he choked on a sob. "She…"

Angelo put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "I will take care of it." Anthony Senior nodded and turned away from his brother and son.

Uncle Angelo took Anthony Junior's hand and led him to the elevator. Once inside the box, he knelt down to his nephew's level.

"Tonio, your mom is not going to be around anymore. The angels called her home," Anthony looked at Uncle Angelo, his eyes still wide with fear.

"Is… is… Mom… dead?" the boy asked with a quivering lip.

"Yeah, kid; I'm so sorry, Tonio," Uncle Angelo wrapped his arms around his nephew. Anthony stared at the wall of the elevator and once the door opened at the ground floor, he walked woodenly behind his uncle to the car.

He stared straight ahead in the passenger seat for the whole ride to his uncle's house in Hempstead. Uncle Angelo tried to make conversation, but Anthony didn't want to talk. He wanted his Mom. He wanted to be with her again and go to the movies. Why did she have to get sick?

Uncle Angelo led the boy into the house, where his wife enveloped the child in a hug. The two adults met eyes and Angelo shook his head. The phone rang and Uncle Angelo went into the living room to answer the call.

"Come, Tonio, I will make you a sandwich," Aunt Isabella took his hand and led the boy to the kitchen. She pulled a fresh hard roll from the bread bin and sliced it expertly. From the refrigerator, she took out sliced roast beef, sliced ham, bologna, and salami. To the meats, she added a slice of provolone, a dash of oregano, and sliced tomato. She sprinkled an Italian dressing over the entire sandwich and then put the top back on the roll. She cut the roll into two parts, and put it on a plate.

The plate was set in front of Anthony, and she motioned for him to eat. She turned to get a glass from the cabinet and poured him a glass of milk to go with his sandwich.

"Eat your dinner and then you can have a cannoli," she smiled at her nephew. "We made them fresh today."

"Grazie!" Anthony ate the sandwich quickly; he was hungrier than he thought. He drained the last of the milk from the glass and wiped his face with a napkin.

Aunt Isabella put a cannoli on a smaller plate and set it in front of him. She watched the boy's eyes widen as he realized that it was his favorite; cinnamon and vanilla. He gobbled it up in three bites as Isabella poured more milk for the boy. He swallowed a big gulp of the milk and grinned.

"Grazie, Aunt Isabella; that was very good," Anthony wiped his face and hands. "I was hungry!"

Uncle Angelo came back into the kitchen. He sat across from Anthony, and motioned for Aunt Isabella to sit at the table with them.

"That was my brother calling from the hospital. He asked if we could keep the boy here for a few days," Angelo explained. "He wants you to be with family, Tonio."

Aunt Isabella took Anthony's hand in hers. He looked at his aunt and uncle.

"Tonio, do you understand that your mother is with God now?" Angelo hated to be having this conversation, but someone had to make sure the eight-year old understood that he would no longer have his mother.

"Yes, Uncle Angelo; but I want to say goodbye to her. Will Dad let me tell her goodbye?" Anthony had been whisked away from his mother so quickly he hadn't had a chance to tell her he loved her, let alone say goodbye.

"Oh, cucciolo," Aunt Isabella had tears in her eyes as she squeezed his hand. "I'm afraid that you cannot do that; they must have taken her body to the funeral home by now. You can say goodbye at the viewing or at Mass."

"No, I want to say goodbye now so that she knows that I love her!" Anthony started crying. "I want my Mommy!"

Uncle Angelo wrapped an arm around Anthony's shoulder, "I am going to your house to pick up some clothes and things for you; is there anything you want?"

"My blue bear," Anthony whispered. "It's under my pillow so Dad can't take it away…"

Angelo shook his head, why would his brother take away something that provided so much comfort to the boy? He knew that Elizabeth won the bear for her son at a street fair many years ago. Tonio loved that blue bear.

"Okay," Angelo turned to his wife. "I'll be back in about an hour give or take. There shouldn't be much traffic going in to the city this late."

Isabella nodded, "I will keep him busy and keep his mind off Elizabeth as much as I can."

Anthony followed Aunt Isabella to the living room, where she turned on the TV. She changed the channel to WOR, channel 9, knowing that the station played a movie at this time of night. Anthony sat next to his aunt on the sofa and watched the screen as Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines began. Soon he was engrossed in the movie; his aunt was grateful for the distraction for her nephew.

Uncle Angelo came back about an hour and one half after he left; he brought a small suitcase with several changes of clothing, pajamas, and the blue bear. Anthony grinned as his uncle handed him the plush bear.

"Thank you," Anthony spoke softly. "Please don't tell Dad; he'll take my bear away…"

"We won't take the bear, Tonio," Uncle Angelo reassured the boy. "Your Dad won't know unless you tell him." He squeezed Anthony's shoulder as he sat next to him on the sofa. The three watched the rest of the movie in silence. The boy held his bear tightly to his chest, enrapt with the movie.

At bedtime, Anthony changed to pajamas and brushed his teeth. He slid under the sheets and blanket on the twin bed in what was once his cousin's room. He hugged the blue bear as Aunt Isabella tucked him in for the night. She placed a kiss on his forehead.

"Buona notte; dormi benne, Tonio," she ran her hand over his shoulder. She and her husband left the room and pulled the door partly closed.

"I am worried about the boy," Isabella said to her husband. "He saw things today that no child should have to see."

Angelo nodded, "I agree; no child should have to see his mother dying. I worry that my brother will push him away even more now that Elizabeth is gone. We must do everything we can to help him!"

The couple settled in to bed and fell asleep even though both were worried about their nephew. At two thirteen in the morning, they were awakened by a scream. Both ran to the bedroom where the boy was sleeping. Isabella opened the door to see Tonio sitting in the corner near his bed, staring at the wall, and screaming.

"Tonio, it's okay, bambino, you are having a nightmare," Isabella reached out to the screaming boy. Tears were streaming down his face and he clutched the blue bear tightly. She pulled the boy to her chest, rubbing her hand over his back and speaking in soothing tones.

"Shh, Anthony, it's just a bad dream," she spoke softly.

"No… no… not a dream…" the boy hiccupped out. "Mommy is… dead…" Fresh tears fell as he curled into the warm embrace of his aunt. "Dad… he… doesn't want… me…"

"Shh, Tonio," Isabella was at a loss for comforting words. What does one say to a child who has seen his mother die? "We love you, Anthony."

Uncle Angelo sat on the bed and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We love you, Tonio, and that will never change. I promise!" Angelo made a mental note to give his brother a good talking to; what in the heck was wrong with the man to abandon his flesh and blood? The boy needed his father and Anthony Senior had just pawned the child off on family. Father and son should be grieving together!

It took almost an hour for Isabella to get the boy back to sleep; Angelo brought a glass of warm milk. They got him to lie down and Isabella gently rubbed his back to calm him down. Anthony cried and hugged his bear, fighting sleep. He didn't want the dream about his mother and the machines to come back!

In the morning, Angelo went about his usual morning routine at the bakery, preparing bread, rolls, and pastries for the day. Isabella stayed with Anthony. At mid-morning she took the boy to the bakery to give her husband a break. Anthony sat in the back of the counter and watched the customers that came in for their orders, or to buy baked goods for lunch or dinner.

Angelo returned from his break and offered a fruit-filled pastry to his nephew. Anthony eagerly accepted the treat and gobbled it up. Isabella smiled at the boy; he didn't seem to mind having to sit still. He rarely spoke and when he did it was to ask to use the restroom. Angelo pointed to the back of the store where the single bathroom for the use of employees was located.

Anthony dutifully washed his hands after using the facilities and returned to the stool where he had been sitting for most of the time he was at the bakery. Around three o'clock the women started coming in to buy the bread for their dinners. Anthony helped Isabella by sliding the long crusty loaves into the bread bags for the orders. The crusty Italian bread smelled delicious and Anthony hoped there would be a loaf left for dinner tonight!

At five thirty, Aunt Isabella packaged up the remaining hard rolls, a loaf of the Italian bread, and a cannoli. She called to Anthony that it was time to go make dinner. He followed her out the door and to the car. Isabella watched her nephew; he had barely spoken a word all day. She was worried about the boy.

At home, Anthony set the table when asked, and then sat at the table and watched his aunt prepare the meal. The meatballs and gravy smelled delicious. His stomach rumbled; Aunt Isabella turned around and grinned at the boy.

"Someone is hungry!" she smiled.

"Yes, ma'am," Anthony smiled back at her. "The food smells delicious."

"We will eat when Angelo gets home."

"Thank you ma'am."

Precisely at six fifteen, Angelo walked in the door. He greeted his wife with a kiss and ruffled Anthony's hair. He washed his hands and the three sat down to the meal.

"Would you say the grace, Anthony?" Uncle Angelo looked to his nephew.

"Um, I, um…" Anthony fidgeted in his chair. He looked down at his hands, "I don't know any grace, sir."

Isabella and Angelo shared a look; how could a good Italian Catholic boy not know how to say grace?

Isabella spoke, "I will help you, Anthony. Bless this food for our use, Heavenly Father. Watch over those who are not with us. All of which we ask for Thy Name's sake. Amen." She made the sign of the cross as did Angelo. Anthony watched his aunt and uncle, not knowing what to do.

He just said, "Amen," and took his plate from Aunt Isabella. The meatballs, gravy, and pasta smelled really good; and the piece of crusty bread was what he had been anticipating all day. He placed the meal in front of him and picked up his fork. Just as he was digging in, the phone rang.

"I had better get that; it may be Anthony calling," Angelo stood up and walked to the living room to answer the phone.

"Mangiare, Tonio!" Aunt Isabella motioned to the plate of food. Anthony had been trying to hear the conversation from the living room. He put a forkful of the meat into his mouth; it was really good!

Uncle Angelo came back to the table, "I was right; it was my brother. The arrangements have not been made yet. He will let us know, but for now, Tonio will stay here with us." He looked at his wife with sadness in his eyes. Their silent communication let her know there was more that Angelo would tell her after Anthony had gone to bed.

Two days later, Anthony was still staying with his aunt and uncle. The daily routine was the same as the first day, except there had been no more calls from his father. At dinner, Aunt Isabella asked her husband if he had heard from his older brother.

"Nothing since Tuesday," Uncle Angelo replied.

"He's probably drunk, sir," Anthony offered as an explanation. "He always drinks when he's home." He went back to eating his dinner as if that was an everyday comment.

"Oh, my!" Aunt Isabella was shocked; she looked at her husband, who just shook his head sadly.

"I will check on him after dinner," Angelo was concerned about his brother. He knew about the drinking and unfortunately, the boy was most likely correct. He would drive to his brother's house and get the man to come to his senses.

While Isabella and Anthony cleaned up the kitchen and then watched a movie on the television, Angelo drove to his brother's house. He used his key to enter the dwelling and found his brother in the den.

"Anthony!" Angelo called out.

"Wha?" Anthony Senior wasn't exactly sober. "My wife just died today, or was it yesterday… I am…"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Angelo lit into his older brother. "You have a son who needs you, and here you sit drowning in booze."

"Angelo, I can't," Anthony Senior's eyes were red-rimmed and tear-filled. "The boy, I don't even know him… I mean, the only time I've spent with him was that Civil War reenactment weekend. He filled a need for Elizabeth after Maggie, but…"

"Get over yourself! He is your son and he needs a father!" Angelo shouted. "That boy is hurting so much!"

"Well, you can take care of him, right?"

Angelo sighed; Anthony wasn't getting out of this one so easily. Yes, he and Isabella could take in the boy, but he had a father; a father who SHOULD be taking care of his only child in this time of sadness and mourning.

"Anthony D. DiNozzo, get your sorry ass off that chair and man up. You have a responsibility to your boy. Act like the adult here!" Angelo moved to his brother and pulled away the nearly empty bottle.

"I can't go on, Angelo. I just can't…"

"Well, you had better figure it out, because Tonio is only eight years old and he needs a parent NOW!" Angelo was so close to slapping some sense into his brother.

"After the services, deal?" Anthony Senior tried to bargain with his sibling.

"When are the services anyhow?"

"Viewing is at ten o'clock on Saturday, Mass is at eleven and graveside services at one at Calverton Cemetery. Family needs to be at the church at nine thirty," Anthony Senior recited as if he were reading a notice in the newspaper. He finally made eye contact with his brother; Angelo would later swear on his mother's grave that he saw no life in those eyes.

"Okay, got it. Does the boy have a suit and tie?"

"Probably; check his room," Senior waved his hand in the direction of the child's room. Angelo left his brother staring at the top of the desk and walked to the bedroom wing. He found a black three-piece suit in Tonio's closet and a crisp white dress shirt with an untied tie around the collar. He took the items in hand and returned to the den.

"I have the suit for Tonio; I'm headed home. Call me if you need anything, Anthony!" His brother acknowledged the information with a slight nod of his head and a wave of his hand. Angelo shook his head in disbelief and showed himself out.

Angelo arrived home and carried Anthony's suit and other clothes inside. In the living room, he stopped and watched his wife with his nephew. Anthony was curled into Isabella's side, clutching his blue bear. He was focused on the television screen with an intensity that was unmatched for an eight-year old. Isabella looked up at her husband. He held up the suit to show her.

Anthony looked up when he noticed that his aunt was no longer watching the movie. He saw his uncle and the clothes.

"Tonio, this is for the viewing and funeral Mass," Angelo explained. "We will have to be at the church at nine thirty on Saturday morning. You will be receiving guests with your father."

"Yes, sir," the boy responded. "Will my mother be there?"

"Yes, her body will be in the casket. It will most likely be open for the viewing and for the Mass. You can see her if you want," Isabella explained to the wide-eyed boy.

"Can I talk to her?"

"You can tell her anything you want, cucciolo; she will hear you from Heaven!" Isabella drew her nephew into a hug. Anthony nodded into her chest.

"Will her eyes be open?"

"The mortician closes them when he prepares the body; they will be closed," Angelo had been to enough funerals in his time to answer the boy's question honestly.

"Oh; how is she going to see in Heaven if her eyes are closed?" Anthony was worried that Mom would be always sleeping now.

"Tonio, this is just her body that we will see; her soul has already left and gone to Heaven," Isabella tried to keep the answer simple and to not scare the boy. "Her spirit left when the angels came for her."

"Okay." Anthony seemed satisfied with the answers. He turned to his uncle, "Uncle Angelo, did you see my Dad? Will he be there on Saturday?"

Angelo nodded, "Yes, Tonio, your father will be at the viewing and services on Saturday. I saw him tonight and he is not doing very well. I think he will be better on Saturday." Angelo hoped that his brother would be sober for his wife's funeral.

"He drinks and gets drunk, you know," Anthony commented. "Then he goes away for a long trip after he yells at Mom and tells me to be a man." The boy paused as if in thought; "Who is going to take care of me now?"

Isabella and Angelo shared a look; neither one knew how to answer the boy's question. Both were shocked that he had even voiced such a concern.

Isabella finally answered, "I don't know, Tonio. That is something that you will have to ask your father."

"Okay," Anthony accepted his aunt's answer. "What do I have to do to receive the guests? It sounds important; do I need to remember who came to visit?"

Angelo sighed; such questions from a young boy! Isabella shook her head slightly and nodded at her husband to answer their nephew's questions.

"You will stand with your father near the casket. People will come by to pay their respects and offer condolences to you both. Some may go to the casket; others will choose not to go. Most likely you will get lots of handshakes and some hugs. Usually there is a guest book for visitors to sign, so that you and Anthony will have a remembrance of the day." Angelo looked to Isabella to check if he had left anything out.

"What if people cry, Uncle Angelo? What do I do?"

"Oh, cucciolo, it is okay to cry!" Isabella pulled the boy to her and hugged him tightly. "Do you want to cry?"

"DiNozzos don't cry," Anthony stated. Isabella looked at Angelo over the boy's head. Angelo just shook his head in disbelief. Young Anthony must have heard that line from Anthony Senior.

On Saturday morning, Isabella woke Anthony at seven thirty. He yawned and stretched, sleepily acknowledging that he would get out of the bed.

"Come, cucciolo, you need to get some good food in you and get dressed to go to the church," she put a hand on his shoulder. She noticed that he was clutching the blue bear tightly.

"Yes, ma'am," Anthony sat up and carefully placed the bear on his pillow before he stretched his arms. His stomach rumbled causing his aunt to ruffle his hair and grin at him.

"You must be a growing boy, Tonio; always hungry!"

Isabella moved to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the family. Angelo came in from the bakery as she was frying some eggs and cooking bacon. He kissed his wife and placed a bag of hard rolls on the counter. He pulled out three of the rolls and sliced them to make egg sandwiches for the meal. As Isabella put the fried egg and bacon on each roll, Angelo poured orange juice for all three and two cups of coffee. Anthony came into the kitchen as they put the food on the table.

After the filling breakfast, the three got ready to go to the viewing. Angelo offered to help Anthony with his tie, but the boy insisted that he could tie his own. The uncle watched as the nephew expertly tied the Windsor knot in his tie.

"Where did you learn to tie like that?" Angelo was incredulous; it had taken him until his twenties to learn to tie it properly.

Anthony looked over at his uncle, "Did I do it wrong? Dad made Mom show me how to tie my own tie when I was four."

"Tonio, it's perfect!" At Uncle Angelo's words, Anthony broke into a huge grin. He put on his vest and jacket.

"I'm ready," Anthony said softly. He really wasn't mentally or emotionally ready to see his mom's body or to have to be with his dad for the entire day. He wished he could bring his blue bear for comfort, but he knew Dad would get angry and take the bear.

Isabella had on a tea length black dress that was simply cut. She carried her black hat with the veil to put on at Mass. She glanced at Anthony; the boy was smartly dressed in his black three-piece suit, crisp white shirt and gray and red striped tie. He would definitely be the object of many a teen-aged crush in a few years.

The three rode to the church in silence, each one lost in his or her thoughts. Angelo wondered if his brother would be sober. Isabella wondered how her nephew would hold up during the long day. Anthony wondered if he would have to talk to his father, where he would be going after the services at the cemetery, and who would be caring for him tomorrow.

Angelo parked the car and Anthony shyly took Isabella's hand when she offered it. They climbed the steps to the main doors for the church. Anthony glanced around at the beautiful statuary, the Stations of the Cross, the many stained glass windows, and the pipes of the organ. He spotted his father standing near a large box. As they got closer, he realized that the box contained his mother's body. He tightened his grip on Aunt Isabella's hand. She squeezed back.

"It is okay to be scared, Tonio," she whispered. "You can take your time to go forward."

He nodded and looked over at his father. Anthony Senior was staring into the casket, unaware that his son, brother, and sister-in-law were just a few feet away. Angelo cleared his throat, and Anthony Senior turned.

"Son, come here to say goodbye to your mother," he ordered. "Come, don't dawdle. The others will be here soon to pay their respects."

Anthony looked at Aunt Isabella for reassurance; she nodded and released his hand. He walked slowly forward, focusing on his father. He wasn't sure if he could look yet. He reached Dad who took him by the shoulders and turned him to face the body of the woman they both loved with everything in them.

"Mommy!" Anthony cried out as tears ran down his face. "Mommy…"

Angelo put a hand on Isabella as she started to go to the boy. "Let his father take care of him; they need each other," he spoke in a whisper.

Anthony Senior grabbed his son by the shoulders and faced him. "DiNozzos DO NOT cry! Dry your tears, boy, and finish saying goodbye to your mother."

Anthony Junior pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiped his face and eyes and blew his nose. He resolved to be unemotional, to bury the hurt and sadness, so that his father would be proud of him. Angelo quietly fumed, wanting nothing more than to punch his brother's lights out and wrap his nephew in a hug. Isabella quietly sobbed in a pew.

Anthony Junior put his hand on his mother's face, touching her cheek gingerly. "Goodbye, Mommy. Remember me when you are playing and watching movies with the angels." He turned around to his father. "Where do we stand to receive the guests?"

As family and friends filed into the church to pay their respects, say goodbye, and mourn, Isabella and Angelo carefully watched Anthony Senior and Anthony Junior. Anthony Senior said very little, hugging those who offered a hug, shaking hands with others, and mumbling 'thanks for coming' every so often.

Anthony Junior stood with his best posture; his stoicism putting a neutral expression on his face. He shook hands with the men, hugged the women, and used his best manners.

"Thank you for coming, sir," he said to his mother's former boss.

"Thank you, ma'am," he declared as the woman from the dry cleaner where they took his father's suits to be cleaned hugged him.

When the priest asked everyone to be seated, Anthony Junior prodded his father into moving towards their designated seating. The boy listened to every word from the priest and from the others who spoke. The father sat in a stupor, unable to process his grief. The three shots of whiskey he had bolted down no longer had any effect. He needed a drink or two or three. He sat woodenly in the pew, the words of the Mass all a big blur to him. He was vaguely aware that his son was sitting next to him.

The mourners rose as Father Giuseppe said the benediction. The pall bearers, Angelo and his other brother, Vincenzo, among them, carried the now closed casket to the rear of the sanctuary to be loaded into the hearse for the ride to Calverton. Anthony Senior totally forgot about his son as he was escorted to the first limo in the line of cars behind the hearse. Anthony Junior tagged behind his father and the two men that escorted him to the limo. He climbed in after his father and took the farthest seat from the man.

"Dad?" he looked over at his father.

Anthony Senior continued looking at his hands, not acknowledging his son.

"Dad?" Anthony Junior tried again.

Still silence from his father; Anthony gave up trying to make conversation and stared out the window at the passing scenery. He wished that he had his blue bear to hug; at least it would bring him comfort. He heard a sound and turned to see his father taking a swig from a flask. Oh, great, Dad was drinking again. Anthony hoped that his father did not get drunk when the two of them were still alone. Dad would lash out at him for sure if so.

"It's your fault, you know," Anthony Junior turned at the sound of his father's words. He said nothing, knowing that if he did respond, he'd probably get slapped.

"Yep, all your fault. If she didn't get pregnant with you, she would still be alive," Anthony Senior pointed at the boy. "You killed my Elizabeth!"

Anthony Junior shrank back into his seat; he prayed for the limo to arrive at the cemetery soon. His father said no more, but continued to glare at the boy. The vehicle stopped and the door opened. Anthony Junior was never happier to be at a cemetery. He would find a way to ride home with Uncle Angelo and Aunt Isabella; he would NOT ride with his father again.

Anthony Senior and Junior, Isabella, Angelo, Vincenzo, and a handful of others gathered at the tent over an open grave. The priest led the small group in more prayers and then blessed the final resting site of the body of Elizabeth Paddington DiNozzo in the Rite of Committal. After the group recited the Lord's Prayer, each family member placed a white rose on the casket. Some said their final goodbyes; others just placed the rose and moved on.

After Isabella placed her rose and said her goodbye to her sister-in-law, only Anthony Junior and Senior remained. Isabella hung back to make sure Tonio had someone to come to if he needed. Anthony Senior motioned to the boy to take his turn. Anthony Junior nodded at his father and stepped towards the casket.

He gently placed his rose over the spot where he thought Mom's heart rested. He placed a hand on the casket and bowed his head as if in prayer.

"Bye, Mommy," he whispered. "If you can see me from Heaven, please watch over me. I love you, Mommy!" He fought back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He would not cry; he would not risk the wrath of his father again. The boy turned and ran his hand along the side of the casket as he walked towards Aunt Isabella. He locked his eyes on hers, stoically retreating from the last physical connection to his beloved mother. As he retreated, he heard his father moving to the casket behind him.

Isabella's heart nearly broke in two at the sight of her nephew fighting the tears that he should be allowed to cry. She wrapped the boy in a hug when he got to her and watched Anthony Senior place his rose and then turn and walk in the opposite direction. She looked around for her husband; Angelo was already walking quickly after his brother.

"Come, Tonio, let's go back to the car and wait for Uncle Angelo," she steered the boy in the direction of the family vehicle. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Angelo grabbing Anthony Senior's arm. The boy did not need to see the confrontation; he had suffered enough today. Isabella opened the car door and motioned for her nephew to sit.

Back in the cemetery, Angelo let loose on his brother. He was steamed at the way the father had treated his son. Turning his back on the boy when Anthony Senior was all the boy had left of his immediate family was definitely not acceptable in Angelo's book.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Anthony? You turn your back on your only son as if you don't care about him. Get your head out of your ass, man; that boy needs you!" Angelo tried not to yell and create a scene.

Anthony Senior put a hand in his pocket and pulled out the flask. He unscrewed the top and drained the remaining whiskey in a single gulp. He glared at his younger brother, daring the younger man to say something.

"Drown your troubles in your booze; show your son just how little you care about him. You are pathetic; I am ashamed to call you my flesh and blood!" Angelo spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep from shouting. He really wanted to slug his brother and knock some sense into the fool.

Anthony Senior turned on his brother, "If you are done being mister sanctimonious, then I will tell you what comes next."

Angelo huffed in exasperation. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying something he would come to regret. "And that is?"

"Bring the boy to my house tomorrow afternoon. I have arranged for a nanny and a cook to care for him. He will be schooled at home until after the New Year. I am trying to get him into the Prep Academy Day School in January. I have been told the boy is intelligent, so there should be no problem with his school work. I will be leaving for Europe on Monday morning." Anthony Senior turned his back on his brother and strode purposefully to the waiting limo.

Angelo stood open-mouthed and shook his head. Leave it to his brother to cut and run. The poor boy would be in the care of strangers. He slowly walked back to his car, trying to compose himself so that he would not upset Tonio further. This was on Anthony; the man would have to be the one to tell his son that he was leaving him to the care of strangers. Angelo would not be the bearer of this bit of news to the young boy if he could help it. He would explain the arrangement to Isabella later that night once Tonio had gone to bed.

Anthony Junior was secretly glad that he got to ride with Aunt Isabella and Uncle Angelo from the cemetery and to stay at their house another night. On Sunday morning, he went to Mass with his aunt and uncle. Several of the parishioners offered condolences to the boy; he graciously accepted each one with a 'Thank you ma'am' or 'Thank you sir.'

After the midday meal, he packed his small suitcase and stuffed his blue bear under the clean clothing. Uncle Angelo took the suitcase and the hanging suit out to the car. The ride to the DiNozzo residence in Manhattan was quiet and uneventful. Anthony watched out the window as they drove over the bridge into the city. As they pulled up to the building he called home, he searched the street for his father's car. He could not see it anywhere.

Uncle Angelo led the way to the front door; he rang the bell and waited. A few minutes later the door opened, revealing a woman in her mid to late twenties, light brown hair in a bun, neatly dressed in a skirt and blouse.

"You must be Anthony Junior," the woman said to the boy. "I have been waiting to meet you!"

Anthony looked her over, "Who are you and why are you in my house?"

"I am your nanny, Anthony. I will be looking after you now. You may call me Miss Atherton," she extended her right hand to the boy for a handshake.

He shook her hand, "You may call me TONY; I am no longer Anthony." He deliberately chose the common diminutive of his given name. When he had been called Tony by a neighbor woman, his father had responded angrily that no one was to call his son by such a lowly and common name. Years later, Tony DiNozzo, the son, would recall that conversation as his first act of defiance and separation from the man who played a part in his creation. It was also the beginning of the wall around his heart to protect the fragile contents from further damage and breaking.


End file.
